Adept at hiding before I could run.
Brightness unwelcome in a firstborn son.
Childhood withered in wars of attrition.
Too soon to chrysalis; growth’s ignition.
Early to go bide in my shell opaque.
Better, dim vision, than live wide awake.
Overdeveloped & undernourished;
I broke free of immurement & flourished.
All life was brilliant, if not premature.
But with time, & wings, how I did endure!
L.B.Stowe 